Sweet Stream

I thought I could bathe myself without being caught naked.
I thought I could quench my thirst with my cupped hands.
I thought I could know where these stream waters lead without getting wet.

In all my trips to the sweet stream I never looked at my reflection.
In all my trips to the sweet stream I never expected to be looked at.
In all my trips to the sweet stream I never saw anybody.

After getting in the cold water so many times the body stops freezing.
The cold living within makes it hurt less each time.

In all my trips to the sweet stream I never trusted the fish tangled around my ankles.
In all my trips to the sweet stream I never thought the shallow waters would leave me adrift.
In all my trips to the sweet stream I always believed my bare feet would know their way back home.

In all my trips to the sweet stream I never thought the late afternoon sun would blind me.
In all my trips to the sweet stream I never expected to see you come out of the water where I was immersed in. In all my trips to the sweet stream I never thought my clothes would stuck to my body and leave you to see through me.

In all my trips to the sweet stream I never thought you’d slip through my hands.
You left the freshwater towards the sea. And told me never to say never in disbelief.
I was left waiting for the tide to change…

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